


Equilibrium

by Miss_Vile



Series: Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt [6]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Edging, M/M, Masturbation, Nygmacest, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, Sex Machine, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29099394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: “Don’t break yourself before we get back,”the Penguin had whispered in his ear.It wasn’t a promise Edward intended to keep.
Relationships: Jim Gordon/Edward Nygma (mentioned), Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma (mentioned), The Riddler/Edward Nygma
Series: Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661929
Comments: 12
Kudos: 40





	Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whosthatpokaimon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosthatpokaimon/gifts).



> Remember when I said I was done with my OT3 series? Well… I lied.
> 
> In chemistry, achieving _Chemical Equilibrium_ is when “the point at which forward and reverse chemical reactions balance each other's progress.”

Sometimes, Edward’s imagination ran away with him. He would occasionally pamper himself with one too many drug cocktails and imagine it was the Penguin making love to him. Or, he would envision the feral James Gordon fucking him senseless and bending him over the arm of the couch. Other times, it was both of them presenting their cocks for his eager mouth. Today, however, Edward wouldn’t be indulging in simple, lustful fantasies. This was just as real, just as profound, and just as unfettered as any other time.

He would be lying if he said that his mind never traveled in this direction. No...this was familiar, even more so than the ache he felt for his two lovers. The first time it happened was when he was a teenager, alone and confused about his sudden interest in boys. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from his reflection when he touched himself and was elated to discover it talking back to him with sweet words of encouragement and compliments about his appearance. It embarrassed him when it was over, but it never stopped him from doing it again. And again.

Over the years he struggled with his more  _ deviant _ tendencies and pushed them as far down as he could swallow. That was until he murdered Officer Dougherty and that darker version of himself who whispered in his ear late at night finally decided he’d had enough and made his presence known. The physical form he took— that  _ projection of impulse _ — only got more real as time went on. Ed allowed himself to swim in the sensations he felt and the warmth in his chest whenever his reflection would speak to him.

Then came that lonely night in Arkham. He’d been dreaming. About what, he couldn’t quite remember. His head was still in that half-groggy state between sleep and reality as he was slowly pulled from slumber, his cock already throbbing and cradled in the palm of his hand… but it didn’t  _ feel  _ like his hand.

He looked down and gasped at what he’d seen. His own face peering up at him and trailing wet, hot kisses down his stomach and inching his way south. They locked eyes and Edward breathed out his permission as this otherworldly vision of himself filled his mouth and hummed contently around him. The feeling of it was so  _ real  _ and so  _ right,  _ it nearly made him cry.

It wasn’t always sex. Sometimes his other half would simply nuzzle up to him at night, breathing lightly against his neck and causing his skin to prickle. Or, they would sit next to one another in the common areas at Arkham, their fingers secretly laced together and conversing inside their own heads. Edward would growl whenever someone would invade that space beside him because they were unable to perceive the other man’s presence. 

Lately, they existed in equilibrium with one another— both firmly accepting the other’s existence and their mutual love for the men in their lives. They rarely separated, both united in motivation and thought. When they did split, it was usually because they were fighting.

Or, like right now, they were fucking.

The Riddler looked different since those earlier days. Now, he freely switched up his appearance as a reflection of his own unique identity outside of Edward Nygma. They were both still  _ Ed,  _ in a way, but the Riddler was most certainly his own person with thoughts and wants and needs.

His hair was longer, more disheveled, and embraced his natural curls. It also had a brighter, more auburn tone which contrasted beautifully with the green of their suits. His eyes were even a different shade now, more honey than brown. He didn’t require glasses so Ed always had an unobscured view of his face.

Their lovers didn’t question Edward when his not-so-secret delivery from Stocks & Bondage arrived the week before. He was always the more experimental among them and they certainly never complained. It intimidated Jim at first, but he quickly settled into the routine after a few  _ particularly _ intense sessions.

Oswald smirked at the contents of the box and had asked him if that was how he was planning on spending his weekend alone. Oswald and Jim were traveling to Metropolis to work out a deal with the Gazzo Crime Family— a deal that required Edward to remain in Gotham to maintain order while they were away. Ed had only responded to the Penguin’s inquiry with a nervous chuckle and an intense heat filling his cheeks.

_ “Don’t break yourself before we get back,”  _ the Penguin had whispered in his ear.

It wasn’t a promise Edward intended to keep.

They started slow, having already planned out their evening. This wasn’t their usual routine, especially since coming to live at the Penguin’s mansion. Their moments together had always been spontaneous and filled with intense heat and longing. This time, they wanted to enjoy their rare moment alone. Like they were a real couple, in a sense. Edward even treated them to dinner— Confit de Conard served with a semi-sweet Pinot Gris… with a little bit of acid diethylamide dissolved in it, of course.

“You’re so attractive,” the Riddler said, trailing kisses down Edward’s neck as the first wave of LSD crashed over them.

“Narcissist,” Edward chuckled, the laughter causing bubbles that tickled his rib cage. He shifted on the bed so he could stare the reflection that wasn’t  _ really _ his reflection in the eyes. The colors swirled deliciously and he drowned in the sparks he saw glimmering at the edges. Like fireworks. Loud and startling.

_ “My only belonging is my beauty, which I take away and then return as love...” _ Riddler quoted the poem against his skin, the words etching themselves on their bones.

_ “I live apart from myself, yet cannot live apart,” _ Edward whispered back. That poem was one of their favorites, even with all its melancholy.

Edward wrapped his fingers around his cock and gave a few experimental thrusts, closing his eyes and losing himself in the heightened sensitivity of his drug-addled brain. He almost tipped over the edge when he heard the delightful noise that rumbled at the back of the Riddler’s throat. He fluttered his eyes open, smiling brightly at the man in the bed beside him.

Even now, there was still that twinge of embarrassment. The small twitch of the Riddler’s fingers as he groped his hands over Ed’s exposed chest did not go unnoticed. This thing that they shared was not something they had spoken about openly to  _ anyone.  _ Not to Oswald. Not to Jim. Not to the countless doctors he’d spoken to over the years. It was their final secret.

They were still so anxious, even afraid, of the judgment they could receive if they confessed. They worried that Jim would give them that  _ look _ , the arrogant faux smile where he lifted his chin for the sole purpose of looking down his nose. Or Oswald’s scrunched expression that teetered some line between disgusted and unsettled. It was an anxiety that they knew, logically, had no place in their lives. But the barrage of what-ifs haunted them all the same. Those innumerable possibilities that could spell their end, scenarios that labeled them freaks or made this sort of  _ self-love _ look more like an illicit, secret affair. Which… Ed supposed it sort of was.

Maybe, given time, they could share themselves and all of their intricacies with the two men who saw them most clearly.

The Riddler always kissed him so sweetly, as one would expect from his childhood sweetheart. Soft and teasing, with latent anxiety. As if, after all of these years, they were still uncertain about how the other felt. But they knew. 

Ed dragged his fingers along the Riddler’s scalp and drank in a moan straight from his lover’s mouth. It tasted like sugar and mint. Of proverbial conflict.

“I love you,” Ed keened, his hand stroking idly.

“I know,” the Riddler smirked, his tongue making its way down to Ed's groin. He wrapped his fingers around Ed’s and assumed control of the limb, squeezing at the base experimentally. When Edward moaned, Riddler took the initiative to lap at the tip and relish the taste.

The Riddler always loved him, since the first day he realized his reflection wasn’t truly his own. He supposed they were more akin to siblings, but those rules and taboos didn’t necessarily apply to them. No, they forged their own boundaries and damn anyone who thought otherwise.

He smirked as he felt Ed shudder and fluttered his eyes up at him. He slid two fingers between the man’s cheeks and gently pressed against the plug. They’d put it there before dinner in preparation for tonight, knowing all too well that they would both be too excited to take their time scissoring Ed open. This was still new to them and it wouldn’t be fair to either of them to accidentally injure the other.

Their more intimate moments never advanced beyond mutual masturbation or oral sex. They never could quite figure out the logistics of how penetrative sex would work between them. Luckily for them, Stocks & Bondage had a massive catalog to order from and they had limitless imagination.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” Riddler said, the head of Ed’s cock twitching against his lips.

Ed swallowed, “I am. I’m ready now. I  _ need _ you…”

Riddler smiled and pulled away from his lover, checking to make sure the machine was properly secured. It required minimal modification. Edward had been impatient to try it, but Riddler insisted on making sure it met the right specifications. Namely that the toy attached was one modeled after  _ him.  _

He turned his attention back to his neglected lover and lovingly pulled at the plug. Edward squirmed and mewled as his body forced it back inside. His insides were eager and it made the Riddler salivate as he watched the man’s tender muscles tense and relax under his care.

Eager, Edward rolled over on his stomach and lined himself up with the machine, his hole aching and knees already weak from the Riddler’s thorough fondling. He gasped when the lubricated silicone brushed against him, not from the size but from the cold. It wasn’t hot like the real thing and the sensation pulled him out of his imaginings, but only briefly. The Riddler quickly brought him back into  _ their _ reality by grasping Edward’s sides and leaning over him, nipping at the raised bulges along his spine. At that point, it wasn’t difficult to imagine it was  _ him  _ entering Ed and not seven inches of firm silicone.

Not wanting it to end before it really began, Edward allowed himself to sink down slowly. The drugs in his system fueled his thoughts and made them feel that much more separate and yet that much more connected. It didn’t take long before the mechanical whirring of the machine’s hydraulics and the feeling of the remote in his hand dissolved away.

“You feel so good, Eddie…” the Riddler groped at his backside, grounding himself on the flesh there, “So good for me.”

“So do you,” Ed gasped out, pushing himself backward to meet his rhythmic thrusts and begging him to go deeper.

Reading his mind, Riddler turned up the speed and shifted his angle to reach the spot they both so desperately wanted. The change caused Edward to cry out. He was already so close, but the Riddler wasn’t willing to let him go just yet. He chuckled and halted his thrusts suddenly, causing Ed to whine and scream into his pillow.

Ed turned his head and looked toward the mirror beside the bed and glared. The image of his auburn-haired lover buried to the hilt behind him filled his cheeks with a fiendish warmth. It was dizzying and almost made him nauseous as his vision became clouded with fractals and colors he couldn’t name.

“Don’t stop,” he pleaded. His voice sounded smaller than he meant it, more desperate.

“I have no intention of stopping,” he rubbed circles into his flesh with the pad of his thumb, marveling at his own drug-induced hallucinations. The colors and light reflecting off of Ed’s skin made the spots where his fingers touched swirl like a glimmering liquid or a colorful acrylic pour.

He picked up where he left off, thrusting with abandon and losing himself in the sounds of Edward’s panting and moaning that echoed off the antique walls. They weren’t necessarily bound by any laws so it was easy for their consciousness to blend and feel what the other felt, to taste and to touch the feeling of being relentlessly fucked and simultaneously fucking. Their eyes occasionally drifted toward the mirror in the hopes that their gaze would ground them.

They continued that pattern for several, frustrating bouts. Each time Edward’s heart would swell as he edged closer and closer to release only for the Riddler to tease him and pull away suddenly. It made him scream.

He tried counting the number of times he got close but had lost track somewhere down the line. He replayed it in his mind in an attempt to count but found himself distracted by a loud hum that hadn’t been there before.

Until then, his cock dangled freely, untouched, occasionally slapping at his stomach when the Riddler’s thrusts became particularly fast. He looked down, his eyes widening at the sight.

_ “Oh,” _ Edward felt his chest tighten. The vibrator was new, green and black, with an array of settings. The Riddler delicately dragged it along the length of Ed’s shaft, causing them both to moan the other’s name. Neither of them would be able to last much longer.

Deciding that this was it for them, the Riddler picked up speed and shifted Edward’s weight so that he could slam into that perfect spot inside of him over and over again. His grip on the wand tightened and he carelessly pressed the button with his thumb, cycling through the various settings against that sweet spot under the head of his cock.

Their mutual orgasm hit in a torrent, their throats blistering from the scream it pulled from them. The red-hot feeling lasted longer than your typical climax, thrashing them in waves that wracked their bodies and fried their minds. Their vision went white and neither man breathed.

Edward came to moments later, the whirring of the machine annoying him in his daze. His insides were numb by that point. Bleary-eyed, he looked at the remote in his hand and willed himself to press the off stitch. Even with the machine off, he could still feel the vibrations and hear the distant echo of the machine's white noise.

Inhaling a staggering breath, he forced himself closer to the headboard where he could freely collapse. Ed rolled, flinching and groaning at the swell of pain in his lower back and the sharpness of the ache in his joints. They were exhausted, pained even, and they would be lucky if they weren’t limping in the morning.

Riddler placed his palms against Edward’s sternum, feeling the heart that they shared pound in their chest. They were slowly coming down from their physical and emotional high but neither of them could muster the strength to stand and clean themselves off. So, Edward tugged at the corner of the blanket and forced it around them.

Riddler hummed as he buried himself beneath Edward’s chin, nuzzling against his sweat-drenched neck and breathing him in. Edward, in turn, kissed the crown of his head and caressed his back idly.

Together, with their arms firmly wrapped around themselves, they drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose this is more of an OT4 now? The next story in this series will be Gobblepot and their weekend alone in Metropolis. You’re welcome in advance, ya heathens.
> 
> The poem they share is titled "Narcissus and Echo" by Fred Chappell.


End file.
